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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27716516">Flying Finish - My Epilogue</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/writer171105/pseuds/writer171105'>writer171105</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Flying Finish - Dick Francis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dick Francis, F/M, Gen, my ending</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:01:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>463</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27716516</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/writer171105/pseuds/writer171105</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Flying Finish was one of my favorite Francis novels, but I thought it ended rather abruptly. This is my own sort of epilogue to it, focusing on Henry and Gabriella's 'Happily ever after'. Hope you enjoy it! </p><p>*I do not own any characters! Just this little tidbit. *</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Henry/Gabriella</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Flying Finish - My Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I watched Gabriella as I drove my car up the gravel drive, the majestic yet decaying exterior of the Earl of Caraggen household looming before us. My new wife had her lips slightly parted in awe, gazing up at the crumbling building before us. </p><p>Gabriella and I had gotten married in Italy a week previously, after having recovered from our injuries after 3 months. My family, as of yet, did not know of our marriage, not even of our relationship, as I was sure they would try to prevent it. They would not approve of my marriage to someone they considered 'lower-class'. They were in for a nasty surprise. </p><p>I parked my car in the front that day, and climbed out to open the passenger door for Gabriella. She gave me a small smile, worry showing in the sparkle of her eyes, though she tried not to show it. She had been learning English while she recovered in hospital, and had improved greatly, but it was still not quite perfect. I had done my best to assure her that it would be fine, but I wasn't actually quite sure myself. </p><p>I took Gabriella's hand in mine and collected our trunks from the boot before leading her up the front steps, not using the side door as I normally would. </p><p>I unlocked the door using my keys and led Gabriella inside to the hallway. She looked up at the high ceilings in awe, and I suppose that if you looked past the damp and peeling paint, it was actually quite awe-inspiring, especially if you came from a small house in Italy. </p><p>It was while we were gaping at the ceiling that my mother rounded the corner, stopping short when she saw the two of us standing there.<br/>
"Henry," she uttered, her croaky voice betraying surprise, "When did you get home? And who is this?"<br/>
"I got back about a minute ago," I replied, moving to stand beside Gabriella and taking her hand, "and this is Gabriella, my wife."<br/>
My mother's eyes nearly popped out of her head.  Gabriella, hiding her anxiety, gave her a warm smile.<br/>
"It is so lovely to meet you," she said, revealing her thick Italian accent. </p><p>My mother's stare lingered for a moment longer, her breaths coming in short gasps, before her eyes rolled back into her head and she fell to the floor in a faint. </p><p>The two of us stood in the hallway staring at her unconscious form. I, for one, wasn't sure what Gabriella was thinking, but I was grateful that the floor was carpeted. </p><p>"Well," Gabriella mused, still looking down upon my mother's prone form, "That could have gone better."<br/>
"Trust me," I replied, looking up at her face, "It could have gone a lot worse."</p>
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